


kiss me if i'm wrong

by pbandwhey



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Drinking, M/M, dad jokes and bad pickup lines, no really that's it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-18 14:43:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11292816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pbandwhey/pseuds/pbandwhey
Summary: “Wait, you dropped something.” Justin says. Olli’s confused, patting his pockets. He’s pretty sure the only things he brought were his phone and his keys, which he already has.“What’d I drop?”Justin juts his chin out cockily, grinning as he gestures to himself. “Your standards.”Olli doesn’t feel bad about throwing the other half of his fortune cookie at Justin’s head.





	kiss me if i'm wrong

**Author's Note:**

> It's pretty fitting that the first fic I've ever finished is about bad jokes.  
> Thanks to toolittletoolate and theworldabouttodawn for beta-ing!

“Hey Olli!” Olli feels someone throw an arm around his shoulder. “Roly-poly-Olli!”

The team was out at one of their regular bars in Pittsburgh. They’d just flown in after a game in Tampa. It was really late, and they should be tired, but a lot of them were still hyped up from a hard-fought comeback win. There were cars they could call for if they needed a ride home, but Olli hadn’t really been in the mood to drink and had offered to be the designated driver for his teammates who weren’t too far out of the way of his apartment. It would seem that Justin, being Olli’s neighbor, was taking full advantage of his generosity, and Olli had lost count of how many shots he’d seen him take with Dumo and Rusty.

Justin being drunk wasn’t the reason for the dumb name he’d just christened Olli with; Justin didn’t need any help being a pest. Of course, that didn’t mean Olli couldn’t give Justin a little bit of grief in return. “What’s up, Jeff?”

A hot wash of booze-scented breath hits the side of his face as Justin huffs something out about how the whole Jeff thing is “not even _close_ to my name, at least Roly-poly-Olli is, like, already a _thing_ \--“

Olli shoves at Justin’s cheek, angling his face away. “You stink. Go throw up in the bathroom or something.”

“Nonono, Olli, you gotta hear this.” It comes out muffled, since Olli still has his palm pressed against the side of Justin’s face. Justin’s also slurring just slightly, and Olli can feel how hot Justin’s face is. “Got a new joke for ya.”

That may be worse than the booze breath, honestly. Olli wrinkles his nose. “Your jokes suck.”

“They are _not_ , I’m fuckin’ witty and you know it _._ Anyways, a, uh, a turkey sandwich walks into a bartender—wait, no, let me start over.” Justin reaches up to move Olli’s hand, his voice coming out a little clearer now. “Okay, so. A turkey sandwich walks into a _bar,_ not a bartender, and it tries to order a drink, right? And the bartender says to him, he says,” Justin giggles, “ _we don’t serve food here!_ ”

Olli fights off a smile, trying to maintain his stoic Finnish façade. It’s always hard to keep it up around Justin. “That’s really bad, Schultzy.”

“Maybe.” Justin’s still very close, draped over Olli’s shoulder, and his lazy gap-toothed grin makes something flip in Olli’s stomach. “Y’still laughed, though.” His arm feels heavy where it’s wrapped around Olli’s back, and he’s still got his free hand wrapped around Olli’s fingers. It’s sweaty, and the crowded room feels too warm, but a shiver still runs down Olli’s spine.

Olli extracts himself from under Justin’s arm, feeling only a little bad when Justin stumbles forward and has to catch himself by bracing his hands – and face – on the bar.

“I think you’ve had too much,” Olli chuckles. “C’mon, I’ll give you a ride home.”

Justin raises his head, turning his face to Olli as he blinks slowly. “Go home with you?”

The implication of that phrase isn’t lost on Olli, but Justin can’t possibly mean it like that. Being inebriated is probably just affecting his word choice. “Uh, yes? If you’re having that much trouble walking, I can help you into your place. Don’t need another injured defenseman, right?”

“Oh. Uh, yeah, that’d be, um, that’d be good, thanks.” Justin almost looks disappointed, but Olli figures it’s because he’s often reluctant to leave bars and clubs once he’s had a few drinks. He’s still going easier than he usually would, though. Olli’s surprised he doesn’t protest when he starts herding Justin towards the door. The cool night air when they exit makes him shiver, a sharp contrast to the hot humidity of the club. Justin whines. “I need my jacket.”

“You’re already wearing it.” Olli opens the passenger door and pushes Justin in. Once Justin is more or less sitting upright, Olli heads around to the other side and settles behind the wheel. “Need help with your seatbelt?”

Justin pouts. “I don’t need your help, I’m not a _child._ ” He still fumbles with the buckle a few times before he finally gets the seatbelt over him, frowning when Olli tries and fails to suppress a giggle. “Stop laughing at me!”

“Sorry, sorry.” Olli turns on the engine and pulls out of the parking lot. It’s late enough now that traffic’s sparse, the late night radio a soft distraction from Justin’s light snores. Olli glances over to where he’s drooling on his own shirt. Serves him right for calling Olli a lightweight all those times.

A while later, Olli’s unlocking the door to Justin’s apartment as Justin lists against the wall. He flicks on the hall light as Justin begins to stumble down the hallway towards his bedroom. Olli grabs his arm and pushes him in the direction of the kitchen instead. “Water first.”

Justin grumbles, but obediently fills a glass from the tap and downs it. Olli makes to leave, fairly sure that Justin was no longer in danger of falling on his face, but Justin calls out to him in a low voice. “Wait. Olli.”

Olli hesitates before he turns back to face him. There’s a weird look on Justin’s face, and Olli’s heart thumps. “Yeah?”

He’s silent for a moment, and then a sleazy-looking grin stretches across his face. “Are you an overdue library book? Because you’ve got fine written all over you.”

Oh, god. Olli had thought – or at least hoped – that dad jokes were the worst of it. But pick-up lines are twice as bad. He levels Justin with a look that he feels conveys an appropriate amount of disdain, but Justin just keeps grinning. Olli rolls his eyes, muttering a quick “goodnight” before he makes his way to leave the apartment. He’s almost out the door when he hears Justin call out again. “I hate to see you go, but I love watching you leave!”

The only response that Olli gives him is firmly shutting the door behind him. If he flushes a little at the comment, then there’s no one around to see it.

_______________________

Sid’s the one who makes him really start thinking about it.

They’re in the locker room after optional skate. Olli’s unlacing his skates on the bench next to Sid, listening to Sid talk about some new diet plan he’s thinking about trying, when he hears laughter on the other side of the room. He glances up to see Justin, Dumo, and Dales crowded together, laughing at something on Justin’s phone.

“Talking to your old man boring you, eh, Olli? You want to go join your friends?” Sid teases, following Olli’s gaze.

Olli pushes at his shoulder. “I thought you didn’t pay attention to social media. Besides, you’re not even my weird fake dad; you’re Shearsy and Guentz’s weird fake dad.”

Sid shrugs. “I don’t pay attention, but you guys have sent me the, uh, the may-mays about it.” He pauses. “That’s the word, right?”

It takes Olli a second to figure out what Sid’s trying to say. “Do you mean memes?”

“Oh, so _that’s_ how you pronounce it!”

“Oh, my God,” Olli groans, “you really are a dad.”

“Maybe they’re looking at memes right now.”

“Would you _please_ stop saying ‘memes’?” Olli bends down to finish pulling off his skates. “And if they’re looking at Schultzy’s phone, it’s probably some lame dad joke or something.”

“Dad joke?” Sid looks at Olli. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard him tell a dad joke.”

Olli snorts. “Seriously? I swear half of what he says to me are dad jokes. There’s no way you’ve never heard him tell one.” He starts peeling off his hockey socks while Sid looks thoughtful.

“Kinda sounds like Geno before we started dating.”

Olli shoots him an incredulous look. It’s rare to get Sid talking about his relationship with his top alternate, and he’s kind of surprised at the comparison. “What?”

“Yeah, all the time.” Sid props his elbow up on his knee, resting his chin in his hand. “Before practice, during practice, after practice… One time he told me one during a rough game while we were on the bench.” He chuckles. “The coach overheard that one, ragged on Geno for a good five minutes during intermission about being a distraction.” Sid starts ticking off each one on his fingers. “During carpools, whenever we were discussing plays, during team dinner, at bars – “

Then Olli remembers the night before. “Schultzy told me one when we were at the bar last night. It was about a ham sandwich.”

Sid grins. “Ham sandwich walks into a bar, bartender tells him ‘sorry, we don’t serve food here’? Yeah, Geno told me that one recently.”

Olli narrows his eyes. “Recently?”

“Well,” Sid scratches at his stubble. “It’s not like he _stopped_ telling me awful jokes after we got together. The only real difference is that now, even more of them are pick-up lines. It’s gotten worse, honestly.”

“Don’t act like you don’t love.” Olli jumps; he hadn’t noticed Geno listening in. “One of us needs to keep romance alive.”

“Uh huh. Sure,” says Sid. He’s smiling, though.

Olli isn’t sure why he brings it up, regretting the words as soon as they come out of his mouth. “Schultzy told me a couple of bad pick-up lines last night.” He tries to backtrack as soon as he sees the looks that Sid and Geno give him, quickly adding, “He was, uh, pretty drunk, though. I’m surprised he did optional skate today, honestly.”

Geno smirks at him. “Must be good lines. I hear you’re go home with him last night.”

Sid’s eyes go wide, and Olli shakes his head. “I was just giving him a ride.” That gets him a raised eyebrow, and Olli sputters. “A ride _home,_ not like – not like that, we aren’t, uh, together.” God, his face is probably beet red right now. “Anyways, he told me them when I’d already gotten him home, he wasn’t trying to, like, seduce me or something.”

“What were the lines?” Sid asks, failing to hide a grin behind his hand.

Olli ducks his head, occupying himself with his pads. “Not important.”

“I would ask so I can use on Sid, but I’m already score.” Olli’s head is still down, but he hears a smacking noise. “What? Everyone know!”

They start bickering. Olli wonders how they ended up as the team’s fearless leaders, but he’s thankful for their shifted attention nonetheless. He finishes stripping his pads and Underarmor and heads off to the showers.

He still can’t help but let his mind wander. If Sid had never heard Justin tell a bad joke to anyone else – but then again, Justin was newer to the team than Olli. Maybe he was still in the stage of hero-worship that might prevent him from making bad jokes around their captain. Then again, he’d been ribbing Sid about his nasty ancient jock last week, so that’s probably not it. It still makes more sense than Justin having some sort of _thing_ for Olli, as much as Olli might –

Anyways. He’s probably just projecting.

He finishes his shower and steps back into the locker room, wrapping a towel around his waist. Almost everyone has left, either still in the showers or already leaving the practice facility. The only two people left are Geno and Justin, talking in front of Justin’s spot on the bench. Olli sees Justin notice Olli’s presence, his eyes going wide for a second.

It makes Olli feel a little awkward. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Oh, no, we were just, uh,” Justin takes a quick glance at Geno. “Discussing slapshots.” Olli can tell Justin’s not being totally honest, and Geno looks as unimpressed with the lie as Olli himself is.

“I go now.” Geno hoists his gear bag up. “You kids have fun, yes?” He shoots Olli a wink before striding away.

They both watch Geno leave the room, and Justin clears his throat.

“Wanna carpool?” Justin asks. “I rode here with Dumo this morning.”

That’s kind of odd. “Did you forget we’re neighbors? I could’ve given you a ride.”

“I was running late this morning.” Justin rubs the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “I asked Dumo because I figured he’d be late too.” Olli figures that’s fair; Dumo wasn’t exactly the model of sobriety last night either.

“Yeah, I can give you a ride back. Freeloader.”

“Whatever.” Justin and Olli start going through the hallways towards to the parking lot. They walk in companionable silence most of the way, but Olli stops just before they reach his car.

“What were you and G really talking about? And don’t say slapshots, I know that’s bullshit.”

Justin freezes. It’s just for a split second, but Olli still catches it. “Okay, he was asking about some surprise romantic thing he wanted to do for Sid.”

Olli’s suspicious. “Surprise romance thing? Since when are you a relationship guru? Last I checked, it’s been a while since you’ve dated anyone seriously. Unless you’re hiding someone.” Olli hopes that last part isn’t true. It isn’t like he’s jealous or anything, he just… likes having a fellow bachelor on the team, that’s all.

“Shut up, I give great advice. He just wanted to know if I knew any good chocolate brands.”

Olli raises an eyebrow. “Okay, there’s no way in hell that Geno doesn’t know what kind of candy Sid likes.”

“New candy is probably what Sid thinks of as spicing up a relationship.” Justin says. Which, okay, fair.

“Alright, whatever.” Olli’s still skeptical, but he decides to drop it. They toss their gear bags into the trunk and head out.

It feels like déjà vu when Olli and Justin go up the elevator to their apartments. They exit, and Justin stops in front of his own door before going in. “Hey, do you want to come over later? I was just planning on ordering some takeout and watching a movie or something.”

Olli likes movie nights with Justin, but he still teases him a bit. “I guess. Your company is still better than no company.”

Justin snorts. “Fuck off. Just come on over whenever, I’ll probably order food around six.” He unlocks his door.

“Do I get any choice in what we order?” Olli asks.

“Nope,” Justin chirps back. “You’ll eat what I order and you’ll like it, mister.”

Olli laughs. “See you later, Schultzy.”

“Seeya.” Justin closes the door behind him.

_______________________

Olli knocks on Justin’s door at 6:22 p.m., since somewhere along the line someone had introduced him to the concept of being fashionably late to social gatherings. Olli isn’t sure if two people constitutes a social gathering, but still. He’d feel weird about showing up at six sharp.

Justin opens the door after a few moments, smiling as he lets Olli in. “I ordered some Chinese takeout a little bit ago, it should be here in a few minutes.” Justin always orders Chinese when they have movie nights like this; neither of them have ever acknowledged it as a tradition but Olli still likes it. He likes their little shared habits – which is a train of thought he promptly cuts off before it runs off the tracks.

“You got a movie in mind?”

Justin grins. “I found some shitty monster movies on Netflix.”

“Isn’t everything you watch shitty?” teases Olli.

Justin punches Olli’s shoulder. “Don’t be rude, I’m feeding you.”

“Wow, you really know how to make a boy feel special.” Olli tilts his head and bats his eyelashes, feeling a little ridiculous as he does so.

“Chinese takeout means you love someone, didn’t you know?” Justin sounds casual, but he has kind of a strange look on his face. Olli might have described it as fond, but he’s afraid to misread things. He isn’t sure how to respond, and there’s an awkward pause as he looks for an appropriate retort. Justin opens his mouth like he’s about to say something else when his phone goes off.

“Oh!” Justin grabs at the doorknob when he sees the caller ID. “It’s the delivery guy; I’m just gonna run downstairs and get it.” He ducks out the door before Olli can say anything.

Maybe was just a trick of the light, but Olli swears the tips of Justin’s ears were flushed red as he darted into the hallway.

____________________

The coffee table is covered in half-empty Chinese food containers. They’re around thirty minutes into the movie, and Olli chokes around a mouthful of fried rice as yet another scientist dives into three-headed shark infested waters to swim to the apparent safety of a tiny boat.

“Holy shit, how many of them are gonna swim across?” Justin’s cracking up on the other side of the couch, shaking with the effort to not drop his container of beef lo-mein. Olli shakes his head, coughing a little. He’s just cleared his airways when one of the people on screen tells someone to, “call the Coast Guard, call anyone!” Olli bursts out laughing again.

“Who else are they gonna call?” He struggles to get the words out between gasps for air. “Their mothers? ‘Hey, Mom, can you come pick me up? I’m about to get murdered by a fucking three-headed shark.’”

Justin’s still giggling when they show the monster circling under the small boat. “God, the CGI on this is so bad.”

“I’m sorry, did you expect it to be _good?_ ”

Justin flings a noodle at him. “Shut up, I’m just saying.” He looks back to the screen. “Think I could pull off a bandana like that?”

Olli shrugs, grinning. “It’s not like it could make you look any worse.” He gets another noodle thrown at him. It lands on his shoulder, and Olli plucks it off of his shirt, defiantly tossing into his mouth and chewing loudly.

Justin scrunches his nose at him. “Gross. No manners. Don’t know why I let you come over here.”

“It’s because you love me. Like you said, Chinese takeout means love.”

Justin purses his lips to the side and hums. He turns back to the screen. “Oh my god, they’re swimming again.” The woman swimming on screen promptly gets bitten by the shark, CGI blood covering the screen. “See?! That’s why you don’t do that! Aren’t scientists supposed to be smart?”

Olli hums. “I think I read once that your chances of getting bitten by a shark are lower than your chances of getting struck by lightning.”

“Yeah, maybe by a _normal_ shark,” Justin scoffs, “but this is a murderous mutant shark. Kind of like Brent Burns.”

Olli snorts. “Don’t be mean, he isn’t that scary-looking. You have missing teeth too.”

Justin bares his teeth at Olli, pointing. “Only one, Olli. Only one. Not half of my mouth.”

Then Justin gets _that look_ on his face.

“What’s a dentist’s favorite time of day?”

Olli groans. “Oh my god, don’t—“

“Tooth-hurty.”

Olli tosses a throw pillow at Justin’s head.

Two movies, three more containers of Chinese food, two beers, and a surprising cameo by Danny Trejo later, Olli’s getting kind of drowsy. It still isn’t that late, but he still feels his eyes lidding over a bit. He yawns, stretching as the credits on the second movie roll.

He hears a snort. “Aw, you need a nap?”

“Shush,” Olli mumbles, “you’re disturbing me.”

Justin moved from having his back against the cushions to being propped up against the armrest near the end of the first movie. His legs are stretched across the couch, his feet occasionally bumping against Olli’s thigh when he shifted. It was a little distracting.

Olli feels Justin poke his side with his foot. “I’m probably gonna turn in early too, if you wanna head back.”

“You’re forcing me to leave, now?” Olli clucks his tongue. “Thought you loved me, jeez.”

Something light hits the side of Olli’s head. He opens his eyes and looks down, seeing the plastic-wrapped fortune cookie where it landed on the cushion next to him.

“Read your fortune.”

Olli picks up the cookie and opens the cellophane packet around it. He cracks it open and pulls out the little slip of paper, popping half of the cookie into his mouth as he unfolds his fortune. “’You will have many happy days soon.’ At least it’s a nice one.”

He hears the rustle of plastic on the other end as Justin opens his. Justin grins as he reads the fortune. “’You will always get what you want through your charm and personality.’ Nice.”

“Can you get a refund on a complimentary fortune cookie? I think that one must be a defect.”

“You eat my food, you insult my teeth,” Justin pouts as Olli starts to giggle, “you try to say I don’t have charm. You’re so rude. Get outta here before I kick you out.”

Olli rises from the couch. “Alright, alright. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Wait, you dropped something.” Justin says. Olli’s confused, patting his pockets. He’s pretty sure the only things he brought were his phone and his keys, which he already has.

“What’d I drop?”

Justin juts his chin out cockily, grinning as he gestures to himself. “Your standards.”

Olli doesn’t feel bad about throwing the other half of his fortune cookie at Justin’s head.

_______________________

 “So, how was date last night?”

Olli turns to Geno, confused. “What?”

“I said, how was date?” Geno asks.

Olli’s still lost. “I didn’t go on a date last night.”

Geno frowns. “I thought you go on date with Schultzy?”

“Oh, no no,” Olli sputters, “we just, uh, hung out. It wasn’t, like, a date or anything.”

Geno shifts around on his skates, sighing. “Stupid Schultzy. Not do what I say.” He looks towards the other side of the rink where Justin’s huddled near Tanger, looking over at something Jacques had drawn up on one of the little whiteboards. “I tell him he needs to ask you out, talk about feelings.”

“I—what? You told him to what?”

“Ask. You. Out.” Geno over-enunciates every word, seemingly mistaking Olli’s confusion for a lack of hearing. He shakes his head. “Schultzy little bit coward. I talk to him again.” And with that, Geno skates off, leaving Olli red-faced and flustered.

  _Was_ last night meant to be a date? Had Justin been trying to make it a date and Olli just didn’t notice? It had seemed like one of their normal movie nights. The only hint of anything more was Justin’s whole “Chinese food equals love” comment, and Olli’s still pretty sure that was a joke. Olli composes himself, turning back to the drill they’re running in practice. He needs to concentrate on the game tonight, not… Justin’s intentions, or whatever.

He takes a deep breath and gets back to work.

_______________________

7-0.

They beat the Arizona Coyotes _seven to zero._

Everyone’s in good spirits after the game. Olli got a point with an assist in the second period; Rusty’s shot that Bones tipped into the net. Everyone wants to talk to Sid because of his goal; he knocked a rebound from Geno into the net mid-air like he was playing baseball instead of hockey. Olli still can’t believe that one.

But now, with the excitement from the game winding down and everyone making plans for post-game drinks, Olli remembers what Geno said to him during practice, about how Justin was supposed to ask him out. Olli glances around the room, finally seeing Justin talking to Geno on the other side. He’s grinning, probably talking about his power play goal; a powerful shot from the point that ricocheted off a few Coyotes players before making it past the goaltender. It wasn’t even the most impressive goal of the night, but Olli’s eyes had still been glued to the Jumbotron as it was replayed over and over.

Geno looks up, and Olli realizes he’s been staring for the past minute when they make eye contact. A smirk crosses Geno’s face, and he turns back to Justin, tapping him on the shoulder and then gesturing to Olli, saying something that Olli can’t hear from across the room. Justin looks up, and Olli is yet again annoyed about how pale his own face is, and how obvious it is whenever he’s embarrassed. He can’t break his gaze with Justin, but that’s how he realizes that Justin’s face is red too.

A slap to Olli’s back breaks him out of his trance. “Drinks, Olli! Gotta get out there and celebrate that assist, bud!” Rust grins at him. “You don’t even have to play designated driver this time!”

“You guys didn’t make me designated driver last time. I volunteered.”

Rusty sighs dramatically. “Fine, whatever, you don’t have to be a complete square like you were last time. Just come out and drink with us.”

“Uh,” Olli looks back over at Justin, who’s still staring back. Justin quickly averts his gaze. “I’m, uh, kind of tired, actually. I might just head on home—“

“Nope!” Rusty says cheerfully. “You’re coming out with us. It’s not an option.”

Olli sighs. He knows they aren’t going to let up on him. “Fine, I’ll go.” Rusty grins at him again, clapping him on the shoulder before turning to confirm his post-game plans with Shearsy and Dumo. Olli doesn’t turn back to look at Justin again. Whatever Geno was talking about is going to have to wait.

_______________________

They’re at a different bar than they were a couple nights ago. It’s a little nicer, with less people and a fancier atmosphere. Olli’s nursing a beer, surrounded by teammates in one of the large round booths. He isn’t in the mood to drink a lot tonight, still turning Geno’s words and the look on Justin’s face over in his head.

Suddenly, Dumo shouts. “Geno, Sid, Schultzy! Over here!” Olli swivels his head around to see the three approaching the table. It almost looks like Geno and Sid are ushering Justin forward, both bracing a hand on his shoulders as they cross the room. Justin looks nervous.

Olli’s on the end of the bench, and he scoots over to make room as Sid and Geno practically shove Justin into the booth. Olli expects them to sit down as well, but they just pat Justin on the head and turn back around. Tanger hollers at their retreating backs, “Hey! Where the fuck do you two think you’re going?”

Geno calls back. “We just here to drop off Schultzy!” He wraps an arm around Sid’s waist. “Sid and I go celebrate in private!”

Most of the team jeers and whistles as they walk away, and Olli can see Sid reach back and pinch Geno’s ass in retribution. Somehow, he thinks that isn’t an effective punishment.

“It’s like watching your parents flirt,” he mutters.

Justin laughs. He’s still sitting pretty close, his knee bumping against Olli’s. “Yeah, they’re, uh, they’re certainly something.” He taps his fingers on the table, shifting a little in his seat. “Hey, good assist tonight.”

“Thanks.” Olli smiles. “But you had a better goal.”

Justin snorts. “So I only get compliments from you if I give you one first? I gotta give to get?”

“Yep.” Olli takes a drink from his beer, trying to focus on the condensation gathering on the bottle rather than the way Justin’s looking at him under the dim lighting. It isn’t working.

Neither of them say anything for a while. Olli’s mostly content just listening to his teammates chatter, laughing along at their jokes and watching as Dumo tries to goad Dales into doing more shots with him. Justin doesn’t move, still sitting slightly closer than he usually would. He’s kind of stiff, Olli notices, and he can tell Justin isn’t paying much attention to the rest of their teammates.

A few minutes later, Justin bumps his shoulder with Olli’s. “Hey, um. I was wondering if we could talk.”

Olli can feel his pulse quicken, but he nods, putting his beer down. “Let’s go somewhere a little quieter.” He hears Justin suck in a breath, but he stands up, offering a hand to Olli and helping him up from the cushioned bench.

None of their teammates stop them as they head towards the exit. Olli pushes it open, holding the door for Justin to pass through.

“Such a gentleman,” Justin chirps.

“You like it,” Olli says. He steps out into the cold December air.

Justin’s huddled in on himself a bit, half like he’s trying to keep himself warm, half like he’s trying to look smaller. It’s cold enough that Olli can see his breath, and he watches the white clouds dissipate into the air while Justin looks at the ground, seemingly composing himself. He finally squares his shoulders and looks Olli in the eyes.

“So, Geno talked to you during practice?”

“Yeah, he said that you were supposed to, uh,” Olli isn’t sure how to finish the sentence, electing instead to gesture back and forth between them.

“Yeah, that’s right, I was supposed to,” Justin repeats the motion. Olli huffs out a laugh. “No, but yeah, he knows about how I, y’know.” He tucks his hands into his pockets. “How I feel. About you.”

Olli’s mouth goes dry. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Justin shrugs. “I just… I was going to ask you out yesterday, but I chickened out and just did our normal movie night… thing.” He’s bouncing a little on the balls of his feet, fidgeting. But he keeps going. “Geno was giving me grief about it. He and Sid have been, uh. Encouraging me.”

Olli smiles. “I guess they’d know how to go about this.”

“Yeah.” Justin chuckles. “That’s what I thought, too. Turns out Geno has kind of a… narrow scope, I guess. For how to flirt.”

Olli narrows his eyes. Justin shrugs with one shoulder.

“The way Geno flirted with Sid was teasing him all the time. He told me to do the same thing.”

It takes Olli a second to register that. Then he grins. “You’re pulling my pigtails? Is this what all those dad jokes were for?”

Justin groans, rubbing his face with one hand. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. It’s what I deserve for listening to Geno, really.” He bites his lip, stuffing his hand back in his pants pocket. “But every time I see them, all I can think about is how I want that with you. Including all the dumb stuff.” He pauses. “Is that too corny?”

Olli feels his smile grow even wider. “Way too corny.”

“So, uh.” Justin toes at a loose patch in the asphalt. “That’s my whole… speech, I guess. But I want you to know that it’s fine if you don’t feel the same way. I won’t be an asshole about it or anything. I’m not gonna put my dick before our friendship.”

“’I’m not gonna put my dick before our friendship.’ You should write poetry.” Justin’s mouth twists, either grimacing or trying not to smile. It’s a really cute face. Olli thinks he should probably tell Justin that. But he can’t get the words out, so instead he just reaches forward and grasps Justin’s wrist, pulling his hand out of his pocket and lacing their fingers together.

Justin’s half-grimace pulls into a full smile. “So, is that a yes?”

“Of course, you idiot.” Olli knows he sounds too fond. He doesn’t care. Justin smiles even wider.

“So we’re doing this?”

“Yeah.” Olli goes easily when Justin tugs at their joined hands, pulling Olli closer in to him. “Chinese takeout, remember?”

Justin leans in until their noses bump together. “Chinese takeout.”

Olli tilts his head to lean in the rest of the way, but feels Justin press his fingers to Olli’s mouth, pushing him back slightly. “Wait, Olli.”

He’s worried he messed something up, but then he realizes Justin’s got that stupid gap-toothed grin on his face again. It isn’t endearing at all. Not even a little. “What.”

“Kiss me if I’m wrong, but dinosaurs still exist, right?”

“I changed my mind. You’re terrible and I don’t like you anymore.” Olli fakes like he’s gonna pull away, and Justin laughs as he holds on to Olli’s hand, keeping him close. Then a thought occurs to Olli.

“Wait, did Geno give you all of these?”

Justin’s silence is telling. “Oh, my God,” Olli gasps out between laughs, “he totally did, didn’t he? You didn’t even come up with your own bad jokes. That’s so sad, Schultzy. That’s really sad.”

“You want to hear the other ones? Because I’ve got plenty.” Justin takes a deep breath before speaking rapidly. “You look ill, you must be suffering from a lack of Vitamin ME. Are those space pants? Because your butt is out of this world. Your body is 75 percent water, and I’m thirsty—“

Olli interrupts him. “Hi, Thirsty. I’m Olli.”

Justin shuts him up by kissing him. Olli figures that’s fair.

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I know it's probably unrealistic that they'd be boozing it up in Pittsburgh if they'd just flown back from an away game. But I didn't decide to use the Yotes blowout until I'd written the preceding scenes. Just pretend that hockey players never sleep.  
> The first movie Olli and Justin watch is called "Three Headed Shark Attack." You can find it on Netflix if you like shit monster movies. And yes, it does have a cameo by Danny Trejo.  
> Wrote this mostly for a friend in the group chat.


End file.
